The Orphan Jones
by RueRambunctious
Summary: Iridiana Jones has many talents: swimming, swearing, catching the attention of genteel ladies, bargaining with Dark Ones, and keeping her crew alive in a storm. And lying. She spends a lot of time lying about where she is actually from.
1. Chapter 1

Mr Gold likes to believe that he is a simple man, with few interests beyond his wife, thirteen year old son, and his business.

He is yet again reminded of the foolishness of this belief as upon locking up his pawnbroker's shop for the night he hears pounding feet in the snow and the unmistakable sound of sobbing.

Gold recognises the sobs. He has heard them often enough. The man grips his keys in his hand, expecting he will be welcoming a visitor shortly, and turns around to look into the gloom of the night.

Further away than Mr Gold had imagined, (but perhaps he is getting used to picking out those cries over any other outside noise) he notices a familiar child running from the direction of the accursed Jones residence.

Surprisingly, Gold's Pawnbroker's does not seem to be her intended destination. The twelve year old does not spare a glance at the shop at all, or, apparently, a thought for the weather, as her narrow, bony little feet crunch through the snow unshod. Her skin looks dark in the dim lighting, lightly mottled purple.

Perhaps she's headed to the docks.

"Iridiana!" Mr Gold calls into the night.

Either the girl is crying too heavily to hear, or she just doesn't care, because she runs on, a blur of a thin, grey dress and tendrils of pale hair whipping about in the cutting wind.

Mr Gold sighs, knowing it is going to be another of those nights. He futilely repeats his cry of Iridiana's name then chases after her into the night.

Iridiana runs blind when she is significantly upset, and it does not surprise Mr Gold when she stumbles on ice and falls backwards heavily, scraping her hands and all the way up one leg to her hip.

If the girl had gotten up, brushed herself off half-heartedly, and continued to race into the night, Mr Gold would have been less worried. Instead, Iridiana sits on the snow and ice in the middle of the road and merely cries harder, wrapping her fists too tightly in her long hair.

"Iridiana?" Mr Gold intones softly, approaching carefully. He's less afraid of the ice than the girl coated in it.

She stiffens for a moment, acknowledging his presence, but the weeping wracks her small frame too severely for her to give it pause.

"You're alright, dearie," Mr Gold declares, sitting down carefully and feeling thankful not to be relying on his cane tonight. The floor is so cold that it sends a chill to his bones before it starts to melt from his body heat and wet his tailored suit.

Iridiana looks at him from under her hair, as though she would speak if she was not hyperventilating and likely to choke on her own breath.

Mr Gold's own boy has not cried like this in years, but Gold is grateful for having raised two sons for the help it gives him in helping to calm Iridiana down. He has seen the twelve year old upset plenty of times before, particularly on special occasions, but right now her face is as red as a screaming, teething toddler.

Mr Gold rubs circles in the girl's back, murmuring nonsense in a low, soothing voice as though she's no less troubling than a spooked horse, and eventually her panic subsides to irregular, shuddering gasps.

Normally Mr Gold would continue to let her sit for as long as she liked, but they are in the middle of a poorly lit road and she is soaking, freezing, likely to get ill.

He heals up her scrapes efficiently and rightens the hem of her dress, pushed up when she fell. Mr Gold stands, and reaches out for Iridiana's icy, little hands.

"Come along," Gold says softly. "Let's get you back into the warmth."

Iridiana stares at him as though she knows he has spoken but can't quite quieten her thoughts enough to process what Mr Gold has said.

"It happened again," she whispers.

Something in her raw voice or her raw eyes makes Mr Gold's insides tighten. "What did?"

Iridiana is quiet, and if Mr Gold was less familiar with her hurt, he might have thought she was not going to answer at all. Eventually she says hoarsely, "My magic, I… glimpsed something."

"Something bad, I take it?" Mr Gold surmises quietly.

"No," Iridiana says pitifully, and that gives Mr Gold pause to look at the girl more closely.

"What she said," the girl continues rawly. She closes her eyes as though just the recollection hurts enough to make her dizzy. "What she said… hurt worse than usual, and...I saw, um, I saw..."

Mr Gold puts his arm around her shoulders, blocking some of the biting wind, and waits. She is shaking violently and he would prefer to get Iridiana out of the cold before she continued her story, but he knows she won't be able to walk until she has blurted out the words, as though expelling some kind of debilitating poison.

"I saw her make a decision," Iridiana expels at last. "Before she knew… believed… how bad things were gonna get."

"Can you tell me about it inside?" Mr Gold asks.

Iridiana looks at him, then flexes her digits and realises they feel both numb and on fire, as though the cold has eaten her senses. She nods quickly.

Mr Gold takes her back home to the shop, whisking her inside with magic because surely what could be the price for helping a frozen little girl?

He ushers Iridiana into the living area, surprising Belle, and makes eyes at his wife to make some fresh, warm tea. Belle stands at once, giving Iridiana a worried look before hurrying through to the kitchen.

"Gaston's gone to bed," Belle whispers as she passes.

Mr Gold nods slowly, relieved he won't have to field questions from their son about his playmate's ghostly appearance, and fetches down some blankets from the cupboard. He nudges Iridiana towards the fireplace, the girl having the sense not to get too close to the hearth at first, returning her body heat slowly, then Mr Gold bundles her into the blankets and sets her into a chair which he pushes closer to the fire.

He takes a turn standing in front of the flames himself, steam rising from his damp suit. Snowflakes in his hair melt and drip onto the floor.

Mr Gold waits until Belle has placed a cup in Iridiana's hands and the girl has clutched it comfortingly to her thin torso before asking, "So, do you want to tell us the details?"

"No," Iridiana snorts, but she leans into the tea's heat and closes her eyes with an expression that suggests that she will anyway.

"Did you know Aunt Zelena suggested to Mom that she should have had an abortion when she was pregnant with me?" Iridiana asks softly.

Belle almost drops her own, already chipped, teacup, but Mr Gold steadies it with magic and exchanges a concerned look with his wife.

"Did your mother tell you that? Or is that what you saw?" Mr Gold asks.

Iridiana blinks and affects a faux veneer of cheeriness as she admits, "Tonight my mother told me she regretted not having the abortion."

Belle really does drop her cup this time, and only the carpet saves the teacup from destruction. Both adults stare at Iridiana, ignoring the puddle of tea spreading across the floor.

Iridiana turns to place her own cup on the nearby sidetable and mutters, "I'll get a cloth."

"Sit down," Mr Gold declares. He turns to his wife. "Sweetheart, will you please call Iridiana's… charming… parents, and tell them she'll be staying with us tonight?"

Belle gives Iridiana a sincere look. "You're welcome to stay with us every night," she says firmly, then steps into the hall to use the house phone. It's not long before she can be heard bickering with whoever is on the other side of the call.

"Where was your father during all of this?" Mr Gold asks.

Iridiana is cringing into the furniture guiltily as the argument in the hall continues. "Jack's teething," she explains. "He was busy."

Mr Gold is about to reply, but an exclamation from the hall steals his words. "I don't care if you're the sheriff! It's hardly kidnapping if you're unfit! Go see if David's willing to back you up on this, because we all know what a useless mother you are!"

The phone slams back heavily into its cradle and Mrs Gold returns with a grim expression, which softens into compassion as she looks at Iridiana. "Are you alright?" Belle asks.

"I'm sorry you and Mom aren't friends any more," Iridiana says softly.

"I'm sorry that your mother is in severe need of a personality transplant," Belle replies.

Iridiana is quiet.

"This isn't your fault, you know," Belle insists sincerely.

Iridiana seems unconvinced, and pulls her teacup back towards her like a security blanket.

She doesn't say much for the rest of the night, and the Golds make up a bed for her, not for the first time. The couple then retreat to their room, where they talk quietly amongst themselves about this latest calamity.

It's one one in a long, long line, and the twelve year old seems close to breaking point.

Iridiana's father comes by to collect her the next morning, and he looks close to breaking point as well. Hook and Mr Gold have a strained relationship and difficult past, but Gold has stopped feeling like the wounded party a long time ago. Hook looks like hell. Every Hook has ever committed is being dearly paid for by the impossible task of balancing his wife and eldest daughter, and Mr Gold might have considered that justice were it not for the considerable strain upon Iridiana.

Staring at Hook's stubble and dead eyes, Mr Gold swallows and admits silently to himself that he actually feels sorry for the grounded pirate. He looks like he's been treading water for so long he is considering the merits of drowning.


	2. Chapter 2

Iridiana hovers in the kitchen with Belle, relieved Gaston is sleeping late, and feeling disloyal for the way her stomach twists when Mr Gold gets up to answer the door to her father. Belle wordlessly places her warm hand on Iridiana's thin shoulder, and for a moment the girl feels less nauseous.

Belle follows protectively as Iridiana warily makes her way to the door.

Hook kneels immediately, pulling Iridiana into an embrace that makes it hard to breathe. His necklace digs into her, likely leaving another familiar little blue bruise, but Iridiana doesn't care about that, because all she can smell is her father and all she really feels is his love for her.

Only, there is also that familiar tension in his shoulders like he's already fought battles for her today and knows he will be facing more. It's likely enough, and it does not make Iridiana feel good.

Hook always hugs Iridiana for longer than most fathers hug their daughters, but the whole town understands exactly why he does so. He eventually pulls away, and Belle meets his eyes with an expression he accurately reads as, 'I would shout at you for what's happened, but I know you're already doing all you can about it.'

Hook's expression tightens in response, but he tries to hold his face away from Iridiana so his daughter will not notice.

It is a wasted effort. Iridiana reads the smallest of gestures with an accuracy not many adults have. It's a necessary trait for her.

Hook stands and holds out a pair of Iridiana's shoes, which she takes and tugs on reluctantly. She balances on each foot easily, as she likes to do things for herself.

Hook bundles her into a jacket, which Iridiana permits because she knows he likes to feel useful and close.

Her shoes are uncomfortable on her heels already. She hates wearing shoes.

Hook pulls Iridiana towards him a little and locks eyes with Belle and her husband. "Thanks," he says hoarsely. "Again."

"She's welcome here any time," Belle responds, watching with a fond but concerned expression as the pair leave.

"I am so worried about her, Rumple," Belle tells Gold as soon as the door closes.

Gold sighs and nods in agreement, whatever he had been intending to say getting lost in the noise of his son stomping groggily downstairs for breakfast.

Hook swallows and observes his daughter trudging along beside him in the snow. She's much too old to want to take his hand, but she can tell he wants her close, and offers her own wordlessly. Hook worries that she spends too little time acting like a child than a parent.

He heaves another deep breathe. "How are you?" he asks.

Iridiana gives him a sideways glance and mutters, "Usual."

The weak way she says it further alerts Hook to the certainty that Emma went further than usual last night. "I'm sorry," he says tiredly.

"Not your fault," Iridiana replies shortly. She says this so often Hook wonders whether she even thinks about the words as she says them. "I know iyou're/i trying."

"Your Mom tries," Hook says, his words forming clouds from the cold. He's unconvinced either of them believe it.

"Dad?" Iridiana asks.

Something in her voice makes Hook's chest feel cold. "Yes love?"

"If you knew how hard it was going to be, would you have gotten rid of me?"

Hook stops walking and stares at his daughter. She blinks as he pulls her up into his arms, but doesn't protest like most tweens would. She's starved of contact.

"Abso-fucking-lutely not ever," Hook says fiercely into his daughter's ear.

"Why?" Iridiana asks bleakly.

"Because you're my baby and I ilove/i you," Hook asserts.

"I'm Mom's baby too," Iridiana mutters.

"Your Mom would love you just as much as me if she could," Hook says.

"Why doesn't she?" Iridiana asks.

Hook's heard that question thousands of times before, and he still doesn't have a satisfying answer. Iridiana's getting older, and at some point he's going to have to tell her the truth, but for now it seems easier to just repeat, "She's cursed."

"Most curses have cures," Iridiana says very softly.

Hook presses his stubble against her cold cheek. "I swear Iridiana, if we knew how to cure this, we would."

Iridiana sighs and presses her forehead against his own. "I know," she says maturely.

Hook's heart twists for her.

He takes her home and she immediately shucks off her shoes, exposing raw skin on her heels.

"Do they fit properly?" Hook asks.

Iridiana pushes a thick strand of her pale hair behind her ear. "No shoes fit me properly," she mumbles, reaching for wipes to clean the dirty soles of her feet so her mother has one less reason to be vile.

"Fish child," Hook murmurs.

Iridiana looks up at him, and despite the situation, spares him an amused grin. "Merchild," she responds, then reluctantly pulls herself onto her feet, padding through to the kitchen to throw away the used wipes.

She's forgotten to take her jacket off, but Hook doesn't remind her yet, because if Emma kicks off Iridiana is likely to dive back outside into the frozen town.

Luckily, Emma doesn't seem to be downstairs. Hook creeps up to the next floor to ascertain her whereabouts.

She's in the nursery, fussing with baby Jack. She glances around at Hook's tread, and gives him an uncomfortable look. They've had arguments over her treatment of Iridiana before, but he's been especially frosty after hearing exactly what she told their daughter last night.

"I'm dropping the littles off with Mom before work," Emma announces softly. "I thought you'd want to spend some time with Iridiana alone."

Hook grunts, recognising the apology, but not feeling like acknowledging it. "Where's Odette?" he asks instead.

"Brushing her teeth," Emma replies as she fastens the poppers on Jack's puffy coat. There's a wry note in her voice, as they both know the devastation that leaves the bathroom in.

"I'll check on her," Hook says quickly, glad of the excuse to leave. He pauses, lingering despite himself. "Teething gel's on the dresser," he says mildly.

Emma looks up at him, her wide eyes unreadable, and nods. "Thanks," she murmurs, snatching the tube and shoving it into a pocket on the diaper bag.

Hook retreats back into the hall, noticing Iridiana lingering nearby silently. He shepherds her past the nursery door, shielding her from sight with his frame, and gives her a small smile as he goes in search of his errant toddler.

The blonde devil is in the bathroom as Emma suggested, smearing toothpaste onto the bottom of the mirror. Judging by the mess on the sink and towels, she would be decorating the mirror further if she could reach higher.

Hook sighs, half-amused by the pleased look Odette gives him. He washes her down and quickly wipes the mirror, throwing the spoiled towels into the laundry basket.

He doesn't bother with the sink. She's still to 'brush her teeth' tonight as well.

Hook carries a chattering Odette through to her room and changes her outer layers into something not stained with toothpaste, wondering whether he should pack a spare change of clothes for her.

He hears the bathroom door click behind them, and Iridiana braves the shower. She normally lingers until Emma has left, so her presence suggests she's annoyed at Emma.

That's fair.

Hook carries Odette through to the nursery, where Emma is struggling to persuade a kicking Jack that shoes are indeed the norm. Hook retrieves a launched shoe and gives it back to Emma. She gives him a grateful look and pats Odette's blonde hair fondly before attaching the shoe to Jack's reluctant toes.

The blissful look Odette gives her mother makes Hook uncomfortable. The toddler's hair is far closer to Emma's golden blonde than Iridiana's ghostly locks, and Emma touches, plays with, and kisses it constantly. She hardly touches Iridiana ever.

Hook is unsure it was fair of him and Emma to continue to have other children when the contrast between how Emma treats them is so striking.

Emma puts the diaper bag over her shoulder, picks up Jack, and takes Odette's chubby, warm hand. Hook almost offers to help, or to offer to bring Emma a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch, but his annoyance stills his tongue.

He's tired.

They can't go on like this. Iridiana is going to break.

Emma senses the tension and murmurs a brief, "Say goodbye to Daddy, kids," before heading downstairs and into the car. It takes a while before Hook hears the engine start, and he realises he hasn't scraped the car for her or cleared the driveway. She's going to be late for work.

He feels apathetic about it.

Hook looks around the house, feeling torn about all the memories and hopes it contains.

Emma's a perfectly good, loving, devoted mother to Jack and Odette, and Henry, when he visits from college.

Henry prefers staying away, or at Regina's, because being stuck in a house with Emma and Iridiana is torturous. Hook can't blame the kid, although he certainly misses him. It probably won't be long before Odette and Jack want away from the screaming tension too.

Odette's already been asking awkward questions about why Mommy is cross with Iridiana all the time.

Emma's much younger brother Neal, who is barely older than Iridiana, seems to think that Iridiana has some innate unlovable quality which causes his sister's disgust. Little Robyn seems to agree, and it is exhausting trying to build up Iridiana's defences against not only Emma's attacks to the girl's self-confidence, but also that of the ignorant neighbourhood kids.

Iridiana emerges from the bathroom and it causes a twinge in Hook's chest the way she looks at her surroundings as though she doesn't belong there at all.

"Do you want to go for a swim?" Hook asks.

Iridiana gives him a surprised look, then frowns a little as though she understands his motive. "Won't you be cold?" she asks.

"It will make you feel better, won't it?" Hook responds honestly.

Iridiana shrugs, but there's a hopefulness amongst the dull expression. Hook throws a towel at her and she grins, most of the sadness receding from her face.

Iridiana grimaces at Hook's insistence that she wear shoes until they get as far as the cove. It's a cold, bleak day, and although there isn't much snow by the water's edge, the wind bites bitterly.

Iridiana looks exhilarated, her cheeks pink from the chill, and Hook's spirits feel somewhat buoyed as she rushes towards the dark, foaming waves, shedding outer layers.

She dives into the icy water, shrieking, and the contrast between her usual meek self and the exuberant child in the water never fails to take Hook's breath away. She was born for the water.

Her magic certainly knows it, as the tail that has been making an appearance for the last few years breaks through the water.

Perhaps it won't be enough to simply move himself and Iridiana into another place in town. Maybe his daughter needs to live on a ship.

"Dad!" Iridiana calls over the roar of the waves and the wind. "Get moving you coward!"

Hook sighs and sheds his clothing in the freezing cold, reluctantly wading into the icy chill of the water with only shorts for protection.

Iridiana flips and spins in the water, trying her best not to splash him. "I could stay here forever!" she cries.

"I'm already getting hypothermia," Hook grumbles.

Iridiana rolls her eyes, but gives him a warm look as she says, "You can get out as soon as you're too cold."

"I'm too cold inow/i," Hook replies, making no move to leave, and splashing her instead. She squeals, and Hook tries to imprint the happy look on her face into his memories. It's been getting harder and harder to picture recently.

It's hell to imagine not seeing Jack and Odette every day. It even hurts to imagine not waking up beside Emma every morning.

But if Hook doesn't do something drastic soon, he gets the feeling it won't just be her smile that he barely sees.

He'll lose her, and she's already more alone than he could have ever imagined.

Iridiana gives the horizon a look when Hook eventually admits defeat and rushes onto the frozen beach for a towel. She's surprised her father managed to stay out with her for so long, and swims back to the coastline slowly, but she keeps her eyes on the expanse of water.

She would rather never come back to the shore.


	3. Chapter 3

Hook would probably have liked the small and close-knit nature of Storybrooke, if it wasn't for how dysfunctional his family is.

He doesn't want to talk to anyone. He just wants to trudge through the snow with his daughter, a towel draped over her soaking, cold hair, and go home.

Meeting Regina on the walk back puts his nerves further on end, and the knowing look she gives their wet appearance makes him feel annoyed and inadequate. Yes, taking his daughter to swim in this hellish weather means things are bad at home, but she doesn't need to acknowledge it.

It's not like there aren't enough opportunities for Emma to screech out reminders to the town – and Iridiana- as it is.

"Hmm," Regina says.

Hook narrows his eyes at her.

She brushes her manicured fingers with familiarity through his daughter's sea-and-wind-tangled mane.

"I'm surprised the colour hasn't come out," Regina comments with what might be a tactful skirting of the bigger issue, or a prelude to something worse.

Iridiana barely glances at the pastel colours streaking her milky-blonde hair. "It's the salt in the water," she says.

Regina's lips twitch, because she can recognise Iridiana's magic anywhere, even if Emma can't. It isn't lost on Regina that Iridiana is doing as much as a twelve year old girl can to not resemble her mother.

"David mentioned Emma's been in an interesting mood all day," Regina comments.

She is unsure whether Iridiana or Hook flinches hardest in response.

"Would it help if Iridiana stayed at mine tonight?" Regina asks.

Hook looks to his daughter for a response. The girl likes Regina, but the woman's niece Robyn makes Iridiana miserable.

Iridiana shrugs and looks at her father.

"I think I'd rather keep her close after yesterday," Hook states, settling his arm over Iridiana's damp shoulders. She leans her forehead against him.

"No problem," Regina replies, trotting along towards the Jones home with them.

Hook doesn't question it. Henry's probably asked his mother to keep an eye out for his younger half-sister, and it might just be possible that Regina is worried on an immediate level.

"Go get warmed up," Regina orders, letting them into the house. "I'll cook."

Hook doesn't argue. He's tired of arguments, and there's going to be a big one between himself and Emma soon enough already.

Iridiana goes upstairs and pulls on yesterday's dress, hoping to cut down on her laundry as a way of avoiding getting caught in a close space with her mother.

Hook spares the dress a glance, but as long as she's clean he doesn't really care about reused clothes. He's more impressed that it isn't crumpled.

The dress is a thin, shapeless, grey shift with a small amount of iridescent beading. Although hardly vintage, the frock looks like something a slight girl in the 1920s would have worn with the hopes of drawing no one's attention.

Iridiana chooses most of her clothing with the hope of it not drawing anyone's attention. Her wardrobe is filled with various shades of mottled grey as though she wishes for nothing more than to melt into the shadows.

When Iridiana was born Hook had thought of her shock of pale blonde hair as luminous and striking, but these days it just adds to her ghostly appearance. He does not understand why she cannot seem to develop a tan from all the time she spends outdoors (and especially in the reflective waves). Iridiana's skin has a sickly blue-grey pallor, and nothing seems to diminish her waif-like appearance.

Hook follows his daughter downstairs, and she is noticeably more quiet than Odette or Jack. Even Henry, who is basically grown, cannot help but chatter in domestic settings.

Iridiana seems to fade.

Regina knows it too, and instructs the girl how to help set the table to try to pull Iridiana into the moment. Including her.

Which Emma seems incapable of doing.

Hook steps forward to help as well, but Regina silently grips his hook and pushes it away, indicating his daughter smiling a little as she places cutlery at three places.

Hook smiles back at Regina. Swallowing, he wonders whether he will have the same support network if he really does leave Emma.

The meal goes along without issue, and of course tastes better as it has been prepared by Regina. Iridiana offers to clear up, desperate to feel useful.

"I wish Robyn was as helpful as her," Regina smirks to Hook.

Hook smiles a little and watches Iridiana somewhat sadly. He wishes his daughter had even a fraction of the maternal love Robyn receives from Zelena.

It's quiet in the house after Regina leaves, but it's nice to actually spend time with Iridiana in a communal space in the house, and even more so with the girl feeling at ease enough to take up space or speak.

"Iridiana?" Hook asks her eventually. "How would you feel if we lived somewhere else?"

The girl turns to him immediately, looking surprised even though she has sensed something about her father had been off recently. "What- what do you mean?" she asks.

Hook regards her with sad blue eyes. "This doesn't work. You're miserable. Everyone's tense. Maybe it would be better if… you and I lived somewhere else, and Mom and the littles stayed here. Or… we could think of something else, but something has to change. Don't you think?"

Iridiana looks stricken and guilty. "Did Mom tell you to bring this up?"

Hook shakes his head, and tilts her chin gently with his namesake to persuade her to meet his eyes. "This is my idea. I'm worried about you," he explains.

"But you love Mom," Iridiana points out. "And Jack and Odette."

"Of course I do," Hook says sincerely. "But I need to protect my children and this environment… it isn't healthy. For you or the littles. You can't grow up amongst all this tension..."

"Dad," Iridiana says softly. "Don't say anything to Mom, okay?"

"Okay, not yet," Hook says soberly.

Iridiana bites her lip as though she wants to say, 'No, not at all.' Worse yet, she desperately wants to throw her arms around her father's neck and beg him to take her away right now, forever.

She leans against Hook, still chewing her lip.

Hook strokes her pale hair. "You've always got me," he murmurs.

Iridiana feels sick.

She withdraws back into herself as soon as Emma's finishing time approaches, and disappears upstairs.

Emma juggles Jack, the diaper bag and Odette as she lets herself into the house. She had once thought she would love this house.

She knows she loves the littles, and Hook, but the situation is… hard.

Hook greets her, taking the kids because she looks tired and besides, he wants to spend as much time as possible with them.

Hook has absolutely no desire to leave any of his children -or even his wife, if he is really, truly, honest with himself- but what else can he do?

Iridiana doesn't reappear until prompted to at dinner time. She gives Hook a pleading look in hopes that he'll permit her to take her meal to her room, but Emma is likely to be mild after yesterday's failure, and he wants Iridiana to have a chance to spend some more time with her siblings. Hook shakes his head.

Iridiana deflates, and Hook is filled with deep, burning guilt not only because he has caused the reaction, but also because the prospect of being in the same room as her kin makes Hook's daughter grey even further.

"Is Idanna bad?" Odette asks conversationally.

Emma flinches, looking between her family members. She's unprepared for her toddler starting to pick up on their issues.

"No, Iridiana is inot/i bad," Hook answers shortly, swallowing the urge to shout, because it's hardly his baby daughter's fault that the family is deeply disfunctional.

Odette seems deeply confused by the assertion, looking at her older sister and then their mother skeptically. Emma looks away.

Iridiana, meanwhile, looks like she might just disappear into the grain of the table and chair if she just chews that little bit quieter.

Hook takes his gaze from Iridiana and moves it around the table. Only Jack seems oblivious to the awkwardness, but even he understands some of the tension around Iridiana because he tends to cry whenever she is close.

At least Killian Jones had his brother Liam. Hook's heart aches.

Emma gathers up Jack and Odette, taking them through to the living room to watch a cartoon movie. She hardly looks at Iridiana, but there is an expression of dislike on the mother's face when she does.

Hook remains at the table and wonders what to do.

Iridiana watches him with an intensely thoughtful look, and Hook wonders if she is considering his suggestion.

She gets up from the table and steps past him, heading for the door.

Hook reaches out with his hook, lightly catching her elbow. "Are you okay?" he asks hoarsely.

Iridiana gives him one of those somber looks of her's, where she seems like the one about three hundred years in age.

"Love you, Daddy," she says softly, then turns and disappears out the door.

Hook gets up quickly and hisses out a question, not wanting to alert Emma in case his wife wades in and causes calamity. "Where are you going?"

"Relax, Dad," Iridiana says with faux cheerfulness, trying her best not to stare at her father too urgently lest he somehow surmises her plan.

Hook leans against the doorframe and watches her. "Be back in by ten thirty," he warns, his tone still muted.

Iridiana smiles back at him, and feels utterly, incredibly guilty.

As soon as her father is out of sight, Iridiana clasps her fingers around a small, black box that she has kept carefully for two years now, almost three.

She heads to the pawnbroker's shop and presses the bell, even though it's closed. She doesn't like going around to the house door. Gaston has a habit of answering that, and he asks too many uncomfortable questions. Worst still, he is sometimes accompanied by Neal or Robin. Or both.

Mr Gold answers after a pause, not looking particularly surprised to see her so soon. "Shall we put the tea on, dearie?" he asks, leading her inside.

"No," Iridiana says urgently, reaching out and grabbing the sleeve of his suit jacket to halt his step.

He turns around and looks at her assessingly, a modicum of concern clear in his eyes.

Iridiana fumbles for the box and holds it up with a shaking hand. "I… I need help," she says shakily.

Mr Gold freezes upon seeing the box he had gifted her for her tenth birthday. He glances over his shoulder almost automatically at the trunk she had hid in that day, refusing Henry's entreaties to come out. The trunk seems to mock him, because what the hell was he thinking to give such a gift to a child?

Mr Gold looks back reluctantly to Iridiana's desperate face. The answer was there of course: her need for help was undeniable.

Before Gold can caution Iridiana, the girl opens the small box and takes out the meagre scrap of expensive paper within.

Nervously, she reads out, "Rumplestiltskin..."

Mr Gold puts his hand on her shoulder urgently to stop her, but her words are too swift.

"Rumplestiltskin. Rumplestiltskin."


	4. Chapter 4

Mr Gold feels a tug in his chest that sends a chill right down to his fingertips. Rumplestiltskin's compulsion to answer the plea for a bargain sends his magic thrumming into life within him.

Rumplestiltskin has been mostly dormant within Mr Gold for over a decade, since he made a sacrifice for his child that altered his magic significantly. Mr Gold has become accustomed to the change, but the primal, monstrous creature within has had little use for it.

Until this moment Mr Gold had not even been entirely certain that this would work, that Rumplestiltskin could take to the new magic enough to still be summoned.

All magic comes with a price, but Mr Gold had gifted the child this one use for free.

"What do you need?" Gold asks, but something in his voice has changed, it's familiar and Other all at once, and it startles him a little to realise just how much of himself has altered in thirteen years.

Iridiana hears the change in his voice but does not appear to mind, gazing instead at Mr Gold's skin. He lifts his hands slightly and notes their faint glitter with mild surprise: he had always thought it had been the darkness which had caused that.

However, it's much subtler than it used to be.

His magic is much less than it used to be.

Iridiana swallows, and approaches Mr Gold's personal space bravely, quite aware that the air around them is thick with magic waiting for her words.

"I… I need you to show me how it happened," Iridiana enunciates firmly. "I need to understand what happened to my mother."

Even the monstrous thing inside Mr Gold seems disturbed by the statement, and Gold wonders whether the neglected persona is less inhumane than he had always thought. Perhaps he has changed more deeply than he realised.

Mr Gold licks his dry lips and asks, "Are you sure, dearie? There's no taking it back once it's done." Unless he wipes her memory afterwards, but that's just going to leave her needing the exact same answers.

Iridiana steels herself, because part of her never wants to know at all what could make her mother reject her so completely. "I need to know," she says sincerely. She will never be able to fix, or even simply accept, what happened if she doesn't know.

If she doesn't do it, her father might make the biggest mistake of his life. Worse than keeping and loving her.

Mr Gold nods and takes a deep breath, and he doesn't know what's at stake here, but he obviously knows that what he's gifting Iridiana is going to hurt.

"As you wish, Miss Jones," Mr Gold says soberly.

It does not occur to him to use any other means than time travel, even though he once thought it so complicated. It doesn't seem complicated now. It feels like that time already has a pull on him, as though becoming so intimately acquainted with Emma's magic before Iridiana's birth has made him highly attuned to that moment. That wound.

Sometimes the magic within him seems foreign: a body all its own. The magic is insistent, Mr Gold can feel it pressing on his eyeballs, he reaches for Iridiana in a blur, and… then they're not there at all.

The Underworld is not, nor will it ever be, somewhere that Mr Gold wants to spend much time. That being said, he's pretty sure he's going to hell when he dies, so an eternity spent here might be a reprieve.

He does not want to be here a moment longer than he has to.

Iridiana is looking around at their surroundings: a twisted, apocalyptic version of Storybrooke. Gold can feel her tension through his hand.

"What happened?" the girl says at last, her voice weak.

Mr Gold looks at her quickly. "We're not in Storybrooke," he explains quickly.

Iridiana gazes around him dubiously. "We're not?"

"We're… we're in the Underworld," Mr Gold announces.

"Hell?" Iridiana asks, wide-eyed.

"More like… purgatory," Mr Gold says softly.

"Oh," says Iridiana, and various snippets of overheard conversations from the past start to make sense.

Mr Gold has the worst sense of deja vu, and it doesn't just seem to be the dread of returning here. "I'm not certain… exactly which moment we've arrived at," Mr Gold confesses. The doors he had expected to be guarded by Cruella and the Blind Witch are as deserted as the rest of that space, and he gets a horrible feeling in his stomach that perhaps he's taken her too late.

There's nothing strange about the sky, and no heroes running towards a portal.

"I, ah, wasn't expecting you," declares a voice that sends mild chills down Mr Gold's spine. He had hoped not to hear that voice again.

Mr Gold turns slowly, keeping Iridiana slightly behind himself, and warning her silently with his grip to be on her guard.

"Hades," Mr Gold greets carefully.

"I'm quite a fan of yours, Dark One, what are you doing down here when you could be up there sending me more souls?" Hades questions. He eyes the washed-out looking child beside Rumplestiltskin speculatively.

Mr Gold licks his lips, getting his bearings. "So I can gather we have not already met then?"

Hades raises his eyebrows and twists his neck. "You've lost me."

"I'm still making sense of it myself," Mr Gold mutters. Thinking back, he remembers Hades already knew about the heroes arrival before they met. Perhaps Gold himself had already mentioned it?

"I'm expecting myself, my two successive Dark Ones, and some entourage to arrive here," Mr Gold explains carefully.

Hades gives him a perturbed look. "Yourself and your successors? But you're not dead."

"Evidently," Mr Gold responds. "Instead, events are going to transpire here which will have lasting effects."

"Like what?" Hades asks, tilting his head suspiciously.

Mr Gold isn't certain what the wisest thing to say is, but a careful use of the truth seems the smartest option. "Your heart is going to start beating."

Hades takes a step back. "What?"

"Just as I said," Mr Gold says curtly. "But I won't give you any details, in case it causes anything to change."

"Why are you here?" Hades asks.

Mr Gold indicates Iridiana reluctantly. "The girl needs to witness what is about to transpire," he explains.

"Why?" Hades asks.

"What can I tell you?" Mr Gold considers. "You won't get along with the group much, but you will get your own way and you will leave this place. However, something of significance will get broken, and the girl will need to witness that if it is ever to be fixed in the future."

Hades considers his treasures. His Olympic Crystal is already broken, but he knows how to fix that, surely? "How does my future look?" he asks suspiciously.

Mr Gold is careful yet honest when he replies, "You were your usual smug self the last time you spoke to me."

Something seems to draw Hades' attention and he looks away. "It seems you might just have arrived," Hades says huskily. He frowns, "That you is a lot more powerful. Darker."

Mr Gold concedes with a dry smile. "It turns out I'm not as much of a coward as I thought I was."

Hades gives him a puzzled calculating look, but seems drawn towards the others. "Should I go to them?" he asks.

"By all means, they're going to cause chaos for you before you leave," Mr Gold states.

"Should the girl come?" Hades asks.

"She should stay out of sight," Mr Gold declares, waving Hades off. "And I do not think it is a good idea for me to meet my former self." Gold pulls Iridiana close. "Do not tell him who you are, but if you feel endangered, tell him that you're Zelena's daughter."

Iridiana's nose crinkles with surprise and mild disgust. "Robyn?"

"Don't tell him what Zelena called 'you' unless you have to, but if you do, explain why 'you're' called Robyn."

"Because Robin Hood died?" Iridiana says skeptically.

"Because Hades killed him," Mr Gold explains.

Iridiana's eyes widen.


	5. Chapter 5

Mr Gold has no memory of meeting himself in the Underworld, and can think of no justification for requiring a memory potion, but he does remember all references to the waif in the grey dress described her alone.

Gold surmises that means he does something (will do something) that he absolutely does not want to do.

He has a rough idea how long the heroes will stay in the Underworld, and Mr Gold does still have enough magic to return.

But to leave young Iridiana Jones alone here? Where anything could happen?

Mr Gold frowns, thinking back, and rubs his forehead tiredly. ...She got hurt, didn't she? He is sure he can remember something about the girl getting hurt down here.

But if he iremembers/i that, then he can't change it, can he? It's far too dangerous to do that.

Iridiana seems to note his disquiet. She is eerily skilled at that, but it's hardly surprising that she can recognise discomfort when she knows little else.

"What's the matter?" she asks without preamble.

"From what I can remember, this is where I leave you until you've witnessed what you have to," Mr Gold says quietly.

"I'm fine on my own," Iridiana says.

Mr Gold gives her a mildly surprised look. "You don't mind being alone in the Underworld?"

Iridiana scoffs softly. "Why would I? Can't be any worse than what I'm used to."

"I think you get injured," Mr Gold warns.

Iridiana shrugs, and gives him a look of pure trust. "That's alright, you'll look after me when you come back."

Mr Gold stares at her for a beat feeling his stomach clench at her open expression. Regina, Zelena, and even Cora had always had walls of mistrust at all stages of their mentorship. Iridiana has suffered just as much as they did, but she is always willing to drop her walls with him.

She believes in him. Mr Gold cannot ascertain whether it is because he is a better man than he ever was before, or because there is a quality to her that guides her trust. It is odd that a child of Hook could remind him so much of Belle.

Iridiana ends the moment with a grin and a wink, turning and giving an unconcerned wave as she trots off in the direction of Hades. "I'll see you later!"

The child is unnaturally chipper and Mr Gold understands that is for her benefit. He leaves in a puff of smoke, wondering how much his wife is likely to berate him for what is surely a severe lack of judgement on his part.

Iridiana glances back at the empty space. Her stomach churns, but her fingers curl into her palms in determination.

She wanders the strange, hellish version of Storybrooke. It looks like someone has laid waste to her hometown and it gives her the creeps.

Her magic feels different here too. She reminds herself that swimming and flying feel very different from walking around, so of course things would feel different down here.

She does not like it all the same.

She supposes she is looking for the early version of her mother, but as Iridiana continues to walk through the eerie town she admits to herself that she would be happy to see anyone familiar.

Perhaps not Robyn. The place wasn't that bad.

Iridiana notices Hades walking into what wasn't quite Granny's Diner. Her heart leaps in relief and she runs towards the building.

Iridiana reaches the door just in time to hear Emma whisper, "You did this."

Iridiana's stomach lurches, but as she looks around she realises her mother is not looking at her, but instead Hades, who is seated at a booth. Hades gives Iridiana the smallest look of acknowledgement then looks away.

Iridiana scans the diner, recognising the backs of Ruby, Aunt Regina and Grandma Snow.

"Hmm. Guilty," Hades announces. He stands and comments, "A little water from the Sea of Lost Souls gives the soup a little ...something." He wipes his mouth for dramatic effect, his eyes sparkling ominously.

"Why would you hurt her?" asks a disturbed Snow. "She was just a sweet little old lady."

"Hmm," says Hades coolly, still posturing with the napkin. "Isn't it obvious? ...Because you're trying to help her."

"And," Regina snarls, "Dorothy, who happens to be Zelena's sworn enemy. Did she put you up to this?"

"Oh your sister has no idea I'm even here, this is about so much more than that," Hades declares, his voice growing more dangerous. "Let's call this a **teachable moment**."

As the other heroes look disturbed, Emma steps forwards threateningly and asserts, "You wouldn't even be here unless you were afraid we might actually win."

None of the heroes seem to notice Iridiana and she wonders what she is witnessing. What does her mother believe she can win?

Meanwhile, Hades mockingly responds, "Oh! Yes? Is that so?" He paces around Emma menacingly, whipping out the napkin around his throat as he approaches the puddle of Auntie Em's remains. "So let's see, **Savior** , because I don't think dear old Aunt Em would agree with you." He kneels in his expensive suit and wipes up the puddle.

The heroes watch in horror as he stands, picks up a jar, and wrings out Aunt Em into it.

"Citizens of the Underworld," Hades announces dangerously, "from now on, **this** ," he brandishes the jar, "is what happens to anyone who deals with these so-called heroes."

He turns around theatrically, holding the horrible jar aloft. "Who's going to be next in line to ask for their help?"

The diner is silent, and Hades looks around pointedly before making a face. Ruby actually looks right at Iridiana and looks away without an expression of recognition. It twists Iridiana's stomach, even though logically Ruby could not possibly recognise her years before Iridiana is even born.

Hades approaches Emma, still holding the jar, and hisses, "It's hard to be a saviour when no one wants you to save them."

Emma feels adrenaline race through her body as she reels from the words.

Hades leaves with a smirk, his gaze flickering over Iridiana mildly in a way that makes her skin prickle.

Iridiana stays where she is, and silently steps back as Emma, Snow, Regina and Ruby leave soberly. Iridiana waits, watching their backs, then follows after them silently.

No one notices Iridiana, but the girl has had a lifetime of perfecting that skill. They make their way to the graveyard, fixating on a particular headstone besides which Grandpa David and Iridiana's father stand.

Something seems to be happening between Iridiana's grandparents, one of whom disappears into nothing with Ruby, but Iridiana is too focused on Hook's appearance.

He looks like he's been hit by a truck.


	6. Chapter 6

Iridiana shadows the heroes as much as she is able, which is much harder than she had imagined as they have a habit of splitting up.

It is frustrating, because Iridiana is terrified of missing something important. At first she mostly stalks her mother, but sometimes she follows her gut instead.

She is uncertain whether this is successful. None of her family seem to notice of her, but the dead certainly do.

She does her best to stay out of their way, but just as Emma back home has a way of scenting out Iridiana, the dead seem to recognise Iridiana's Otherness.

They do not like it.

Iridiana gets used to being mildly accosted, it's hardly different from the bullying back home and the scenery's not much different either, but Iridiana gets outright mobbed as she tries to stay out of sight of her father and grandfather.

Iridiana doesn't cry out, because she is used to absorbing hurt until she can't take any more, and at first it's more frightening than painful.

The dead do make noise, angrily railing at this brat with a beating heart for the suffering they endure. The ruckus causes the attention of Hook and David, who exchange glances and run towards the trouble.

Iridiana is unsure if she is more worried about being seen, or what the dead might do to her. Her living heart hammers.

Quickly wading into the fray, Hook and David pull people out of the way, snarling at the more aggressive dead. The men discover at the mob's centre a frazzled looking young girl of about thirteen. David looks around at her attackers, who seem to have nothing in common but their dead status. They don't seem terribly guilty.

"She's a kid!" David exclaims, stepping towards some of the attackers fiercely. He cannot comprehend why a group of grown adults would accost a waifish little girl. The mob drifts away, but some give the girl vicious looks before they go.

Iridiana swallows, wondering whether Hades knows when she is supposed to die. Her body aches a little. If she gets killed down here, she will have to stay, won't she?

Hook shields the girl with his frame and crouches a little to meet her eyes. "Are you okay?" he asks.

Iridiana's face is mostly hidden under a shock of lavender-blonde hair patterned with very faded pastel colours. An attempt to emphasise that her blonde hair is not like her mother's golden hue. Iridiana wonders whether this position will hide her facial features enough not to make her father stare. It is common knowledge above that Iridiana has Killian Jones' mouth and jaw, possessing all the same quirks of movement.

She lifts her tongue to her lips when she smiles, which would be the biggest tell of all, so it's lucky that Iridiana is in no position to smile. She hasn't been born yet, as far as this Hook knows, so he's less familiar with how his mouth looks in misery. As far as Iridiana is aware.

But that does not stop Iridiana's body chilling with fear. She feels like her features are screaming her secret. Hook doesn't know he'll have a daughter yet, but what will happen if he sees himself blatantly mirrored in her? What if she changes something she's not supposed to?

Iridiana nervously looks up at her father's face, her living heart hammering. It's the strangest thing to have him look at her as though for the first time. As Hook stares back at the girl, Iridiana moves her gaze quickly to the familiar jewellery in his ear which catches the light despite the gloom. It's too disconcerting to be looked at like that.

Iridiana cannot help when her gaze drifts back to the earnest, stubbled face. Looking at her doesn't bring him pain. He doesn't know the suffering that's in store.

She takes a step back.

Hook echoes the girl's backward steps to reassure her, raising his hands to show he isn't a threat.

Her eyes fall on the intimidating looking hook where one of his hands should be. It doesn't scare her, but the vivid reminder of who she is facing does frighten her. He's smart; if he keeps looking at her he'll know.

She must not change the past.

David takes Hook's shining hook and pushes that arm behind the former pirate's back.

"We're not going to hurt you," David states.

The girl gives him a stare that makes him shiver, and it's got nothing to do with her being a child in the Underworld. She needs to keep the men away, because it would be too easy to make a mistake with them close, and the only way Grandpa David won't recognise his wife's eyes on Iridiana's face is if she fills them with hate.

The girl tilts her chin. "Not directly, maybe," she states accusingly.

Hook looks disturbed. "What do you mean, lass?"

She crosses her skinny arms fiercely, but the aggression of the action is lost due to how much of her torso is hidden by her faded, wraithlike hair. It doesn't quite resemble the inside of a shell; a pirate knows the look of opal when he sees it. Hook isn't superstitious enough to forbid the stone of tears from his ship, but something about the girl gives him chills.

"Not a talker, eh?" Hook says wryly, trying to soothe the strange emotions storming behind the girl's eyes with his even tone. "That's okay, I grow on women like that."

David gives him a look that says clearly that he recognised the comment about his daughter Emma.

Hook merely smirks back, now's not the time, and crouches further to face the girl.

"That's patronising, you know," she comments, but she doesn't seem insulted.

"Is it?" Hook gives the girl a winning smile and stands.

The girl seems unsettled by the attention. "You can go now," she says. "I'm … fine."

David gives her a concerned look. She seems about Henry's age but all bones and nervous, awkward angles. "Isn't there somewhere safe we can take you? Someone we can take you to?"

The girl snorts, sounding slightly bitter. Her grip on her arms has shifted into more of a reassuring self-embrace. "You've done enough, thanks. It's going to get worse now they've seen me with you..."

"What, those people that attacked you? Why?" Hook demands.

The girl's arms snap to her sides and she steps forwards crossly, not seeming to care in the least that she can't even see over either man's shoulders. "What, you think your lot have the only beating hearts in the Underworld?" she sneers. "I have enough of a hard job keeping mines that way without being seen with you."

"You're still alive?" David asks.

The girl suddenly looks embarrassed. "In a manner of speaking. But you 'heroes' have been getting Hades all riled up, and that's getting the dead really, really wound up. Between that woman in the diner, and the phones, then destroying the sheriff? What is wrong with you people?"

Hook glances at David in concern, but although his face has tightened he remains focused on the girl's plight. "We're here trying to help," David states.

The girl momentarily gives both men a wavering, sad look, then squares her shoulders in her thin dress. "You don't even know who I am," she protests in a brittle voice.

Hook raises his good hand appeasingly. "You don't have to tell us anything if you don't want to," he says. "At least let us get you somewhere that you're not going to get any backlash for being seen with us, alright?"

The girl gives him a brief, searching look that makes Hook's hair stand on edge. She bites her lip as though she's afraid of what might spill out, then shakes her head fiercely. Her hair swings around her like a barrier.

"Just leave me alone please," she tells the men. "I think it's a bad idea to talk to you. A really bad idea."

David starts to protest again but Hook relents and steps back to allow the girl to pass by. She nods at them as if there's something more she wants to say, but silently walks away on bare feet.

"Do you think there's been much of that?" David asks Hook breathlessly.

Hook can't seem to take his eyes from the girl's retreating form. There's something about her that he swears he almost recognises. "Of what?" he replies.

David looks at him as though he's said something stupid. "Of the dead attacking each other because of us."

Hook shrugged. "I suppose we watch and see. They've got a fair point to be agitated with Hades flying off the handle."

"We should tell the others," David states.

Hook nods. "Aye." The girl disappears around a quiet corner and out of eye line. "Do you think there's many live people down here?"

"Hopefully there will be less of us soon," David replies. "I want to see my family."

Iridiana is a lot more careful after that, and holds back long enough to make her nervous of losing sight of her family before she hurries after them.


	7. Chapter 7

Mr Gold swallows as his wife crosses her arms. Narrowing her eyes at him, she demands, "Why do I feel like you've done something, Rumple?"

Mr Gold swallows. "I was about to tell you..."

"Tell me now," Belle states firmly.

Mr Gold nods slowly.

"Iridiana came by again," he begins.

Belle gives him a stern look. "And?"

Mr Gold heaves a deep breath. "And she asked for my help," he continues.

Belle fixes him with fierce eyes. "Why do you seem guilty about that?"

"I might have done something… questionable," Gold admits.

"What. Did. You. Do?" demands his wife.

Mr Gold sighs. "She needed help, Belle, I couldn't just-"

"Couldn't just what, Rumple? What did you do?"

Mr Gold squirms a little. "She wanted to see what happened to create the gulf between her and her mother."

Belle's mouth falls open in a little 'oh' of shock. "That's not something you show a little girl, Rumple!" she exclaims.

"Why not?" Mr Gold retorts. "If Miss Swan can tell that little girl that she wishes she had aborted her, why can't I help Iridiana come to terms with how they got in such a mess?"

"iEmma Jones/i isn't who I'm scolding right now. I'm interested in what you've done!"

"iI/i have done my best to help," Mr Gold responds.

Belle sweeps the room, not hearing any noise from the building that suggests Iridiana is around. "Where is she, Rumple?"

Mr Gold swallows, and Belle's eyes narrow again.

"She's… not here," he admits.

"Where is Iridiana?" Belle asks firmly.

"Reviewing things," Mr Gold murmurs. Belle takes a step forwards warningly. "She's… watching," Mr Gold admits reluctantly, "what happened."

"Where?"

Mr Gold takes another deep breath. "iAs/i it happens," he confesses.

"WHAT?" Belle screams.

Mr Gold recoils a little. "She wanted to understand."

"Your son's almost the same age! You should know what's age appropriate!" Belle protests. "You can't-"

"Iridiana has always been mature for her age," Mr Gold protests.

"Not emotionally!" Belle retorts, looking appalled that she even needs to point that out. "She is fragile, Rumple."

"She's strong. She needed this," Mr Gold insists. "Besides, it's not really what happened then that's the problem, is it? The problem is how her parents chose to mismanage it."

"The problem, Rumple, is that you have a little girl in the Underworld all by herself watching something that's going to provoke a breakdown," Belle snaps.

"I think it will help," Mr Gold argues mildly. "I think she wants to see so that she can process and accept things."

"She's twelve; she doesn't have that sort of capacity," Belle protests.

"I think you're underestimating the child," Mr Gold says softly.

Belle bites her lip. "Even if I am, it's not your place to give her the truth. That's her parents' call, and you're not really even her grandfather."

"Her parents are responsible for the mess she's in," Mr Gold states frostily. "If Iridiana comes to me for help I will give it to her."

"She's a kid," Belle points out. "She probably thinks if she understands the problem she can fix it. She's going to be disappointed."

"Who are we to tell her she can't try?" Mr Gold asks.

Hook is not pleased to find his daughter has not returned home at the time specified. It seems to justify the worry in his gut present since the moment that she left.

He gives her half an hour, hoping that she's merely late, then steps out into the cold night. He walks past the bus stop wondering if she's just had enough and intended to go visit Henry, but she's not there.

Which means it's going to be an uncomfortable night, going around the town to find out whose house his daughter is taking refuge in this time.

Hook decides to try Regina's door first, because Belle would have phoned, and he absolutely does not want to have a conversation with his in-laws if Iridiana has told them of his suggestion.

Of course Iridiana is not with Regina, because that would be far too simple. And now the brunette is verbally berating him as she pulls on a coat and gloves, insisting that she will join Hook in search.

"Does Emma know Iridiana hasn't come home?" Regina asks archly.

Hook gives her a resentful look. "Of course not," he responds. "Like she needs an excuse to go off on one."

"She's still a mother and she should be informed when her child's missing," Regina grumbles, stepping carefully through the frozen over slush.

"Pretty sure she's of the opinion that she only has three kids, and that Iridiana going missing would suit her just fine," Hook states through gritted teeth. The word 'missing' makes his gut clench.

"Besides," Hook continues, "Iridiana's just a bit late. That's normal for a girl her age."

Regina makes an unconvinced noise. "So where next?"

"Gold's, I suppose," Hook mutters, looking out into the empty street before them.

Regina nods and takes his elbow. Hook freezes for a moment then relaxes into the touch. It's still a surprise years later that she has accepted him not only as Henry's kin, but her own.

"Thanks for coming, Regina," Hook says softly.

She looks at him, pursing his lips. "Where else would I be, pirate?"

Hook looks away, not sure how to point out that Regina's out here looking for his daughter when Emma would explode if he even suggested she help. Hook tries to joke instead, "Curled up warm with a book and a glass of red?"

Regina's lips twitch, her breath coming out in visible plumes. "We can remind Iridiana of that when we find her."

Hook gives a small smile, glad she has said 'when' and not 'if'. They approach Mr and Mrs Gold's home and ring the bell.

The door is swiftly answered, as though their presence is expected, and Hook feels himself release the worried breath he had been holding. Iridiana is fine.

Belle pulls the door open fully, exposing her face, and Hook's emotions plummet. Belle's eyes are wide and she looks strained, flustered.

"Come in," she says quickly, and retreats inside.

"What's going on?" Regina asks before Hook can even form the words.

Belle leads them into the sitting room, when Mr Gold is standing by the fire. His jaw twitches uncomfortably.

The couple seem vividly ill at ease.

"Where's Iridiana?" Hook asks.

Belle opens her mouth to speak then bites her lip and looks across at her husband for help.

"She's… not here, but I know where she is," Mr Gold confesses.

Hook steps forwards threateningly, his every nerve telling him something is very wrong. He snarls, "Where the hell is my daughter?"


	8. Chapter 8

Iridiana is starting to get sick of the stalking by the time she comes upon Cruella and the Blind Witch barging through a queue of the dead towards where Henry -he looks so iyoung/i- is writing in the Storybook.

"Don't count on it," cries Cruella, flouncing past the enormous amount of people with unfinished business.

Iridiana wonders what is happening, and follows silently. Is this finally the moment where things begin to fall apart?

"Sorry Cruella," begins Regina, "but I don't think your unfinished business will take you anywhere you want to be."

"No, I'm not here to collect my story," Cruella scoffs. "I want to stay in this marvellous realm. You see, with Hades departing, the Underworld is going to need a new ruler," Cruella announces.

She doesn't know that Zelena will kill Hades. Iridiana listens, musing whether Cruella will become the ruler of this strange not-Storybrooke.

"You?" David sneers at the woman.

"It's the only upside to your daughter sentencing me to this fate," states Cruella, "but, the job would be meaningless without a citizenry to torment."

His daughter? That's Emma. That's Iridiana's mother. Is this..?

"Cruella, we're not going to let you harm these people," David asserts reasonably.

"Oh, you think I'm just going to keep them here?" scoffs Cruella in a faux surprised voice. "Oh no. I'm going to keep all of you here. It's only fair," she says, glancing at Regina, considering it was your son who refused to write me back to life, and you," she glares at David, "you dissolved my James, the best toy in the whole playpen."

Who is James? Was James?

Regina announces, "I am still waiting to hear how you're going to stop us from leaving, Fuzzy, because all your magic can do is make a dog roll over and beg."

"True, I don't have the magic," Cruella agrees with a grin, "to keep you all penned in here..."

"But I do!" the Blind Witch chimes in merrily.

She waves her hand, whooshing open the library doors, and magically throws the heroes inside, slamming closed the doors.

Iridiana freezes, watching. She knows they all survive, but it frightens her somehow. It feels very real.

David gets up first and charges towards the door, but Regina warns him out of the way, crying to the witch, "You forced my hand, kid eater!"

She conjures a ball of fire and throws it at the doors.

"Regina," Robin cries nervously.

Iridiana expects the brunette's magic to work, but it doesn't. The magic is ineffective. Iridiana has never seen that happen. Not to Aunt Regina.

"What the hell?" Regina gasps.

"That's right," Cruella exclaims from through the doors, "no one's getting out before sunset when the portal closes and then," she chuffs, "no one's getting out."

"Consider it payback, Regina!" the Blind Witch cries out perkily. She scowls. "For tricking those children into burning me in my own oven."

"Ta ta!" adds Cruella. She turns to the Blind Witch and declares, "Oh, it's going to be a nice eternity after all. At least for us."

They chuckle and leave the heroes trapped, taking a lazy stance across the street to smirk at the dead.

Iridiana stands frozen, scared that to help with break something, and worried that she has no idea where her parents are.

Eventually the doors burst open, and Iridiana feels like she can breathe again. As the magic clears she sees that her mother has joined Regina. Iridiana is unsure how to feel about that.

The heroes are shocked and disappointed upon dispersing to see Cruella and the Blind Witch sitting across the street waiting for them.

"Oh darlings, you didn't think it was going to be as easy as that, did you?" Cruella drawls in faux sympathy.

Emma clenches her fists, suddenly consumed by hatred. There's a brittle anger radiating from her that is both familiar and alien to Iridiana.

"Oh, this is going to be so easy," Emma growls, pulling back her fist and forming a ball of magical energy.

The Blind Witch chuckles. "It's going to take more than that," she declares, lazily indicating the graveyard in the distance.

Even from such a distance it is impossible not to see the powerful magical wards protecting the graveyard. The heroes understand that the way to the portal home is blocked, but Iridiana does not understand why their faces drop. Wards can be broken.

David inhales deeply and stands beside his grieving daughter. "Are you suggesting there's a better way than blasting through you then blasting through that?" he growls.

Cruella hums. "Just as brash as your brother after all, but just as stupid, aren't you?" she states. Her tone is mostly flippant but there's a pain around her eyes that makes David almost uncomfortable.

His brother. Grandpa had a brother?

"So get it over with," Regina groans. "What do you want?"

"Well personally I would like all of your heads on spikes at the entrance to our new kingdom," Cruella admits.

"But Hades was pretty clear on our not letting you out, so we're going to need something huge to distract us from the pikes idea," the Blind Witch adds.

"Well?" Regina prompts impatiently. Henry stands a little behind her, hoping he won't have to violate his powers as the Author.

"We were thinking a gratuitous entry fee to the graveyard is in order," Cruella states with amusement.

Fee. And that's when Iridiana slowly begins to understand.

"I prefer the blasting idea," Emma says coldly.

"You would think you would be the one most willing to barter," Cruella pouts.

"Why me?" Emma barks.

"Well, it is your fault that everyone is stuck here," Cruella points out. "Even me, but especially your family and friends. Even your brat."

Emma pales.

"Don't listen to her, Swan," Regina warns.

"She's right though," Emma admits. She visibly deflates.

"No she's not!" Henry argues.

"We do have a suggestion though," the Blind Witch comments. "Whilst we're feeling generous."

"What could you possibly want from us that you don't have already?" Emma asks bitterly.

"Why, your future of course," Cruella grins.

"You already have my future," Emma says.

Iridiana wonders why there is so much grief in her mother's voice. Where is Dad?

"But do we really want it in this form?" Cruella replies. "Personally I don't want to have to run a kingdom with you lot in it, constantly having to undo your do-gooder ways."

"So what do you suggest?" Regina asks.

The Blind Witch sneers at her. "Don't worry Regina, you'll be experiencing a loss of your own soon enough. We don't want anything else from you. We want to make a deal with Emma."

Iridiana knows she should be focusing on that monumental deal, but she spares a look at Aunt Regina, and the man nearby that Iridiana recognises from photographs. Robin Hood. Robyn's dead father.

"What does that mean?" Regina snaps urgently, utterly unaware of Iridiana's attention or Robin's impending doom.

"Ignore them, they're probably just trying to rile you," David warns his friend.

"Well it's working," Regina huffs.

"What do you mean by wanting my 'future'?" Emma asks.

David blurts, "Emma, don't make any deals that-"

Cruella throws up her hand. "Relax, daddy, Emma is a big girl now. She can make her own decisions."

Iridiana feels sick. She knows how this is going to end.

"Shall we whisper the deal into your ear?" the Blind Witch asks. "I'm sure the others won't approve."

Iridiana takes an unconscious step forwards. She needs to hear precisely.

"What is it?" Emma asks.

"Come find out," the Blind Witch smirks.

Sighing, Emma pushes away her family's restraining hands and stalks towards the witches. "Whisper away," she snarls.

Cruella does, and Iridiana cannot hear a word or see the words against her mother's ear, but she iknows/i. She knows exactly what has just been suggested.

The Blind Witch slips around to the other side. She adds her own quiet comment.

Emma flinches. "But I'm not-"

"But one day you will be," the Blind Witch replies, her voice still soft but finally loud enough that it carries a little to Iridiana, "and we don't want you to have that happy ending."

"So the deal is," Cruella continues in a harsh whisper that Iridiana can't quite decipher, "you give up your ability to love your next child, and we'll let your family, and Regina, go home with you."

"Knowing that you'll never have any more family than you do right now," the Blind Witch whispers gleefully. Iridiana cannot make out the words, but she can hear the tone. It twists her stomach."You'll never be truly happy."

Emma laughs grimly. "That's easy. You have my word."

And Iridiana feels her heart drop to her toes. That's it. That's how easily her mother betrayed her.

"Your word is all very well, darling, but we want a signature," Cruella replies aloud, pulling back and producing a contract.

The others have not heard the conditions of the deal, but Emma's flinch upon hearing it is all the others need to ascertain the price is too steep.

"Don't do it!" Regina insists.

Emma turns and gives her a pained look. "I refuse to condemn the ones I love to eternity in the Underworld. I… I couldn't save Hook. This was an easy decision to make."

She couldn't save Hook? Is that the deal? Iridiana's mother can bring back Iridiana's father if she… does what she does to Iridiana?

Or is Iridiana literally the exit fee for the Underworld?

As the others protest, Emma quickly signs the deal.

"Your entry fee is paid, you had best run along quickly if you want to catch the portal," Cruella smirks. "Shame you let down that strapping pirate of yours."

Emma recoils at the words, but ushers Henry in the direction of the portal. David glares at the dead women and follows.

Regina loiters, tempted to hex Cruella and the Blind Witch. "Best not to get stuck with us, sweetie," Cruella sneers.

"Mom, come on!" Henry cries.

Regina gives them another look of hate then snarls and rushes after her son.

"I almost feel sorry for Regina," the Blind Witch comments.

"She chose her side," Cruella responds coolly, and heads off towards the diner.

"Emma," David says as he tries to push her towards the portal, "I'm sorry there wasn't another way."

"I need to protect the ones I love," she states dully.

"You did your best for Hook," David insists.

"I don't know," Emma states. "Did I?"

"Emma," Regina says painfully, "what did you trade?"

Emma does not reply, and Iridiana can barely put her feet in front of each other to walk after the heroes.

She watches them disappear through the portal then turns and is violently sick on the grass.

That's it.

That's how it happens.

Iridiana feels lost, overwhelmed, and dizzy. The sky seems to spin above her, more enormous than she has even known before.

And then Iridiana notices she is not alone in the graveyard.

She sees an older girl a short distance away, dark-haired and tugging at long sleeves, who looks up as though she can hear something that Iridiana cannot.

Was she there moments before?

"What are you listening to?" Iridiana asks, approaching. She cannot hear a thing.

The brunette lowers her head, her ear still angled towards the sky. "Waiting to see if I'm staying or not."

"You mean moving on?" Iridiana asks. The girl seems rather nonplussed about it.

"Pulling through," the girl replies, tugging at her sleeves again. The girl seems to flicker, her image like a flame in a breeze.

Suddenly Iridiana can hear the voice too.

"Wake up, Storm."

"I am awake," the brunette, Storm, mutters to herself, gazing at the sky reluctantly.

"Come back. You need to come back."

Storm tugs at her sleeves again as Iridiana watches.

"Do you want to go back?" Iridiana asks.

Storm's image sharpens. "No," she admits, then purses her lips. "But this will break my father. He's already lost my sisters."

Before Iridiana can respond, Storm's image disappears entirely. Iridiana listens for the voice, but the cemetery is silent again.

She feels utterly unsettled.

But then Iridiana thinks of her own father. Where is he?


	9. Chapter 9

Iridiana feels lost and alone.

Her mission seems to have fallen flat, because she has not learned a thing that she can use to make things better. She feels deflated.

Iridiana cannot bring herself to call for Mr Gold.

It feels like… there's something more. Something silent is calling to her, raising the fine hairs on her skin and tugging her along.

Iridiana does not know where she is supposed to go, but she is certain she is not supposed to stay here amongst the headstones.

She leaves the graveyard and wonders how she is supposed to find her father.

Iridiana catches a glimpse of black and white fur disappearing towards the diner. It's the only lead the girl has right now, so she runs after Cruella.

Unfortunately, the dead are restless. Iridiana's rather annoyed that even in the Underworld people can tell she's different, and she's not entirely surprised when they mob her. It's like school. Being harassed and bullied in the playground, being pushed and having her hair pulled. Only here it's because she has a heartbeat, not because she is infamously unlovable.

Inside the cafe, the diners seem listless, which makes the restlessness of the dead outside more noticable. It draws the attention of Iridiana's father, which in turn draws that of Arthur.

"Trouble again," Hook comments, swiftly recognising the pastel hair amidst the fracas.

"Are the dead usually this volatile?" Arthur asks.

"They're upset," Hook answers a little distractedly, wading in after the child. Hook's presence scares off a couple of the attackers, but the dead are even more upset than before. Although Arthur reluctantly helps to see off the rest, it takes longer to disperse the angry crowd than last time with David.

It is uncertain whether the accosting is more violent than before, or merely interrupted later in the act, but it is soon apparent that the girl is injured. She holds a limb to herself with a frown, holding in a wince, but she seems vaguely apathetic about it.

As though she's endured worse. It makes Killian feel rather sick.

"Are you alright?" Hook asks her.

She shrugs, but despite her distress this time she seems grateful. Maybe she hurts more than she's letting on. She looks pale.

"Do you know her?" Arthur asks the pirate. Something about the waif makes him uncomfortable.

"Sort of," Hook replies distractedly. His lips are pressed together at the sight of her body language (stiff, pained, frustrated, anxious) and he asks the girl, "How badly are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she replies in an obvious lie. Something about the way she says it reminds Hook of Emma, maybe the posture or the accent.

The girl's lips are grey. Evidently in more than a little bit of pain. But her shoulders are straight.

Hook and Arthur exchange glances, which only seems to frustrate the young teen. Hook tries to reassure her that he and Arthur are going to bring down Hades, because what else can he say, but she merely looks skeptical.

Even though she knows Hades' fate. Because it's not ithem/i who will destroy the god.

It seems like she should encourage the men to continue their mission, because she shouldn't tell them about Zelena. So Iridiana does her best to shoo them off. She refuses further help because she is still terrified that she might change something from this timeline that shouldn't be changed.

At her insistent urging the men leave her reluctantly. It doesn't sit right with either man, but the more they protest the more agitated she appears.

"We should have made her come with us," Arthur complains. "Kept her safe."

"I don't think the company of people makes her feel safe," Hook replies, although he already feels his skin crawling in warning as though leaving the girl behind goes against something within him.

"I cannot suppose why," Arthur responds sarcastically. "That anyone would treat a child that way is sickening."

Hook nods grimly. "That's the way Hades has things here."

"The sooner we vanquish this villain the better," Arthur declares.

"If there's a way to defeat Hades the answer will have to be in here," Hook declares, leading the way.

"What is this place?" Arthur asks.

"It's his throne room," Hook replies, "or dungeon, depending on his mood. Last time I was here I spent most of my time at the end of a lash."

Arthur gives him a disturbed look then begins to look around. "Sounds like this Hades was an even worse king than I was."

They examine there surroundings for a while before Arthur asks, "What exactly is this Holy Grail we're looking for?"

"It's pages from a storybook," Hook replies as he continues to search.

Arthur gives him a dubious look.

"I know it doesn't sound like much," Hook counters, "but Hades went to great lengths to keep them hidden from us and I think these pages can tell us his weaknesses. All we have to do is find them."

"There's nothing here," Arthur declares. "Maybe you were wrong about this."

"I can't be wrong!" Hook exclaims. "Hades is out there now, threatening Emma, and I bloody well need to find a way to save her."

"I get it now," Arthur says slowly, striding closer. "This is all about a woman."

"Aye," Hook says rawly, "a woman who risked everything for me, and the last promise I made her was that I would move on from this place, and I can't do that – not whilst she's still in danger. Now please, come on, you – you were a king once, where did you hide your treasure?"

Arthur approaches the throne and examines it. "The most important stuff I hid in a place no one would ever dare touch: my throne." So saying, Arthur discovers a switch which springs open a panel, revealing the missing pages. "Well look at that," Arthur declares, standing and holding out the pages, "your Holy Grail."

Hook examines them, knowing quickly that they are exactly what they had been looking for. "I need to get this to Emma," he declares.

"What have you found?" Arthur asks.

"The one answer she's been looking for most of all – the way to destroy a god."

Arthur and Hook return to the Blind Witch's diner. Iridiana makes sure to keep out of sight this time. She's sore and is starting to feel kind of sick, but maybe she's starting to need food. Although she remembers the story about Persephone, so Iridiana won't be eating anything down here any time soon.

"I thought you guys would come back soon," the Blind Witch declares to the men, not turning around. "I smelled a bromance. Table for two?"

"We're not here for a meal, we're here for her," Hook announced, tossing his head at a patron in a booth.

"Oh, back up," Cruella snaps. She puts down her martini glass and gazes at Arthur. "No seriously, back up," she purrs. "Let me take a gander at this handsome new addition to the Underworld."

"We have to get a message to our friends in the world above," Hook interrupts. "And you ripped out the phone booth that can do that. Now where is it?"

"Oh, as appealing as this stubble sandwich is," Cruella sighs, causing the men to exchange glances with each other, "I'm pretty sure lying to you won't get me what I want. You'll eventually work out the truth, so here it is and on your way. I destroyed the phone booth. Sorry."

"Why would you do that?" Arthur exclaims in a gravelly voice.

"Because darling I can't have everyone resolving their unfinished business, that would be no fun. And if I'm going to be trapped in here, so is everyone else."

"The book," Hook whispers. He approaches and demands, "Where is it?"

"In sight but out of reach," Cruella declares smugly. "I put it in the River of Souls."

Hook walks away and whispers to Arthur, "If we can get our hands on that book, I may have a way to get those pages to Emma."

Hook and Arthur manage to cram themselves into a narrow boat to journey through the River of Lost Souls.

"We're almost there," Hook states, "the book should be just up ahead."

Arthur surveys the moaning wraiths in the water. "What are these things?"

"They're lost souls," Hook says soberly. He twitches as Arthur lowers his hand to the water. "Oi, careful! Touch the water, you become one of them," he warns.

Arthur quickly withdraws his hand.

They approach the carved dock whilst the souls continue to wail.

"There's the book," Arthur states, spotting it in the grasp of a gargoyle above a doorway. "That two-tone witch was telling the truth."

"I'll go," Hook replies, "you just make sure the boat's here when I return."

Hook hands Arthur the rope and approaches the building.

As Arthur waits near the water's edge a soul approaches him stealthily. It snatches at his leg and screeches, pulling him down and towards the water.

Hook turns in alarm and races back down the steps as Arthur struggles with the creature. "Release me, demon," Arthur gasps.

"Arthur!" Hook cries.

"No! Go for the book!" Arthur insists. "Go!"

Hook hesitates, staring between the book to save Emma and the struggling man below. Hook rushes closer to Arthur, snatching a torch from a sconce on the wall.

He swipes the flame at the soul, hacking at it until the soul finally succumbs to the flames and disintegrates. Arthur pulls his way back from the edge of the pier, breathing heavily.

Hook reaches down and Arthur grabs the pirate's hook to pull himself up.

"Thank you," Arthur responds.

"Uh-huh," Hook grunts.

"Now get the book," Arthur orders, still panting.

Another soul appears from the water, hovering near Arthur before darting towards to book in the gargoyle's grasp.

"Hook!" Arthur cries. "The torch!"

Hook quickly throws it and runs back down the stairs.

Arthur catches the torch and swipes it heavily through the soul. The soul drops the book and it slides along the stone, Hook thankfully narrowingly catching it before it perished in the waters.

"You could have told me those things could attack us," Arthur gasps.

"I didn't know they could," Hook replies, grunting as he pulls himself up from the water's edge. "Perhaps things are changing down here now that Hades is gone."

"You sure this book can still work?" Arthur asks.

"I'm not certain of anything down here," Hook replies, "but this book is special." He opens the book and declares, "These pages have crossed realms when people needed hope the most."

As Hook flicks through, Arthur asks, "Out of professional curiosity, how does one kill the god of death?"

Hook strokes the torn edges where the recovered pages once lay. "With something called the Olympian Crystal," he replies. Arthur holds the book to help Hook place the pages back inside as Hook continues, "Once activated, the raw power inside can obliterate anything, even a god."

"You really think Emma can find this crystal and use it?" Arthur asks. "You have a healthy dose of faith."

"It's more like hope," Hook sighs, and closes the book. "Alright Swan," he murmurs to it, "now it's your turn."

"Hook," Arthur murmurs.

Hook looks around, expecting another wraith from the spooked note in the monarch's voice. He is genuinely surprised to see the girl instead.

She barely seems to notice their presence, her attention at least half occupied with the Sea of Damned Souls.

The wraiths seem rather occupied with her too, with most pressed as close to they can get to her whilst remaining in the water.

"Came with us after all?" Hook asks, observing the wraiths warily, his gait half poised to drag the girl away.

"Keeping watch," the girl replies. "The wraiths would have completely swarmed you if they weren't distracted by living flesh."

"That's… disturbing," Arthur responds.

The girl shrugs, glad of the knowledge she's picked up from her wandering. "You're new here. You wouldn't know."

Perhaps she was always supposed to come here. Because otherwise, how would the men have survived the wraiths?

"Have you been here long?" Arthur responds.

She rolls her eyes with the casual contempt only a teenage girl is capable of mustering. "That would be telling, wouldn't it?"

"Did you hear all of our conversation with Cruella?" Hook asks.

"I mostly listened to the part where she almost sent you both to your deaths… well… destruction," the girl replies.

"Well, thanks for the warning," Arthur states.

"The closer I got the more wraiths approached you too," the girl explains. "That's why I'm back here."

Hook holds the pages aloft. "I don't suppose you know a shortcut to the library so we can get these to Emma?"

"Preferably one that avoids all wraiths," Arthur suggests dryly.

The girl looks strangely uncomfortable about the mention of Emma, but nods and responds, "Of course I do."

She leads the men back into the throne room and indicates a series of tunnels. "I've been waiting around here a long time," she explains.

"What have you been waiting for?" Arthur asks.

The girl shrugs. "A wake-up call?" she replies flippantly.

She ignores the sympathetic looks Hook and Arthur give her back and instead continues to lead them calmly through the tunnel.

She stops abruptly, gasping and grabbing at the wall before she falls to the floor a little ahead of the men.

Which is humiliating, but she can't stop it from happening.

They rush towards her, asking whether she is okay.

She heaves an irritated breath and looks skywards for a moment as a large, pale tail flaps in place of her usual legs.

"Sorry, I'm fine," she mutters. "Just give me a minute… my magic down here is unpredictable." And she's in pain. An awful lot of pain.

"Is turning into a mermaid something that's usually predictable for you?" Arthur asks.

"Well in the land of the living I have it pretty much under complete control," the teen huffs. She closes her eyes to visibly concentrate, and manages to return her legs. After a beat of slowly wriggling her toes she rises warily to her feet.

"Come on then," she says quietly. "The library's not going to meet us halfway."

"It might be quicker if I carry you," Hook suggests.

He doesn't expect her to agree, but after staring at him for a few moments she surprises him with a gruff nod.

She's sure that she shouldn't agree, but the mission seems important, and she dares not slow it down.

Her nose is filled with the scent of salt and leather as the pirate lifts her into his arms. "That way," Iridiana announces warily, pointing at the forking mouth of a number of tunnels ahead.

"Glad you're here," Arthur comments.

She glances at him quickly but makes no verbal response.

The girl seems half-asleep by the time they make it to the library, her head slumping heavily against Hook's shoulder as she mumbles the last directions.

Hook sets her down carefully to put the pages in the book.

"I owe you thanks," Hook tells Arthur, "for your help."

"I have embarked on many a wrongheaded quest in my time," Arthur states, "I'm just glad to finish one that was righteous. I only wish I knew what happened to Emma."

"Emma did exactly what she needed to," Hook replies.

"How do you know?" Arthur asks.

"I don't know," Hook replies, squinting thoughtfully, "I just… I do."

Hook leans forwards and shakes the girl's shoulder. "We did it," he announces.

She smiles weakly at him. Barely able to listen, but recognising the enthusiasm in her father's voice. She closes her eyes.

A shimmering light appears from the doorway underneath the gargoyle.

"What is that?" Arthur asks.

"It's the way to move on," Hook replies, feeling drawn by the light.

"So the defeat of Hades was your unfinished business," Arthur surmises.

"Perhaps it was yours too," Hook ponders, turning away from the light to face Arthur. "Come with me."

"Don't worry about me," Arthur replies, "I'll be alright. I was once prophesised to repair a broken kingdom. My mistake was thinking that kingdom was Camelot. But now I think I understand the kingdom I have to repair is here in the Underworld."

Hook nods sincerely. "Well I wish you the best," he says softly. He reaches out his hand, "Goodbye Your Majesty."

Arthur takes it. "Goodbye Captain."

The light shimmers against Hook's outfit and he turns to walk into the glow until it envelops him.

Arthur turns to look at the girl and notices blood around her inside arm, mostly hidden by her hair and the way she had been holding herself. It's starting to seep into her hair.

Arthur pales. "Are you alright?" he exclaims, rushing towards her.

"Relax," she replies groggily. "I can't die here, it's not part of the deal."

But she's panicking a little. Would be panicking a lot more if she didn't feel so… floaty. Her father has just walked into the light. He's just moved on.

How can she exist if he's…

Unless she was conceived before he died? But then, how does he come back?

Has she changed something? Has she inadvertently killed her loving father?

Arthur gets the feeling that there is plenty the girl is not telling him, but she's clearly fading fast so pressing her on answers will have to wait. The hem of her dress had been torn in the earlier commotion with the dead Arthur rips it away completely. He quickly constructs a tourniquet to ease the serious bleeding from her arm.

Iridiana looks closer to death than any of the dead Arthur has seen here.

He finally manages to stop the bleeding and leans back on his heels in relief. It takes her a long time to come around.

"Why didn't you tell us earlier how badly you were hurt?" Arthur demands.

She shrugs sluggishly. "It was less important than your quest," the girl insists infuriatingly.

Arthur heaves an annoyed sigh.

"You could have died," he states.

"Don't you listen?" she sighs.

"What makes you think you're exempt?" Arthur demands.

"None of your business," she replies calmly. She gazes at her bandages with mild interest. The wound might just scar.

Certainly more interesting than the scar Neal got from falling out of a tree. Not that anyone would believe where Iridiana got this from.

She refuses to think about her father moving on.

"So," she says calmly, fixing her gaze on Arthur, "are you going to tell me about **your** unfinished business?"


	10. Chapter 10

Despite the growing feeling of guilt in his stomach, as though his subconscious knows something that he doesn't, Mr Gold makes his way back to where he left Iridiana.

Things seem a little better than last time, but there are no heroes in sight to draw the girl. Something feels off. Eerie.

Mr Gold heads to the graveyard, sensing magic in the air from a recent portal. The kid wouldn't have gone through that, would she?

She was far too smart for that surely.

Mr Gold hurries to the gravestones and starts checking their names.

Everyone's left. Apart from Iridiana, her grave standing upright beside her father's.

The sight makes Mr Gold's skin itch in agitation. It's a good sigh, really, that she's still here to find, but… A child's name on a gravestone bothers him. Especially her's. The fragile child has so much potential. So much love. So much character.

Right. About time he found her then.

Mr Gold scours the Underworld, doing his best not to draw attention to himself. He starts to compile a list in his head of every place of note when he and the heroes were here together. He determines an order to their search.

But he notices blood spattered on the pavement across Main Street, near the Blind Witch's diner.

The dead don't bleed like that.

It could be Hook's blood, Mr Gold tells himself. Hades gave the pirate on hell of a thrashing years ago.

But Mr Gold's gut is telling him that's not what's patterned at his feet.

Mr Gold holds out a hand and gestures carefully.

Closes his eyes in magical confirmation of the horror.

What the hell was he thinking, leaving a little girl here all alone?

He tries to determine which way to follow the blood prints, but after a while they just… stop.

Mr Gold tries a tracking spell on the blood. He's not very surprised when it doesn't work, but it ought to. iWhy/i isn't it working?

What is he missing? What is he forgetting?

Why is there something burning in the back of his brain like he half knows what's going on?

Think. iThink/i. If he had taken a memory potion then to protect himself from knowing too much…

No.

He wouldn't know who Iridiana was then.

He wouldn't know how much he wants to keep her safe.

But surely there wouldn't be any ireason/i to put Iridiana's life at risk?

The Blind Witch comes out of the diner and approaches Gold. "Thought I could smell your magic," she comments.

If she notices that Mr Gold is over a decade older than the last time she saw him she doesn't mention it, although there's still too much magic in his being to age like a typical human specimen. He's been pickled in dark magic for too long.

"You're looking for the little girl with the beating heart," she surmises.

Mr Gold feels something twist in his gut. "Yes."

"You're not going to find her," the Blind Witch tells him. "Not iyou/i."

Mr Gold steps forwards swiftly. "Who finds her?" he demands.

The Blind Witch laughs mirthfully. "Someone from your past."

That could be anyone. The Dark One's sent enough souls down here.

"How do I find the girl?" Mr Gold asks a little frantically.

The Blind Witch closes her eyes and inhales deeply. She gestures loosely with an arm. "The trail picks up again over there."

She opens her blind eyes and stares directly at Mr Gold. "Smells delicious, doesn't she?"

That's not a threat, just a taunt, but it puts panic in Mr Gold's gut. He races after the trail of blood, ignoring the way the witch laughs breathily in his wake.

There's so much blood.

Mr Gold follows it for what feels like forever.

Until he finds the wraith water. Where he destroyed Milah.

Iridiana's blood saturates the stones.


	11. Chapter 11

Hook opens the door to Henry's bedroom and is startled to find the boy is not alone. Violet stands quickly, a worried expression on her face, and her half of Henry's earphones falls away.

Hook gives both teens an assessing look. They give him guilty expressions.

"I thought you were grounded for running off to New York with loverboy here?" Hook questions slowly.

Violet smiles in a way that confirms the statement.

"Um… she… still is," Henry admits. He steps forwards earnestly. "You won't get her into trouble, will you?"

Hook looks between each of them assessingly. "Do either of your moms know that Violet's here?" the pirate asked, feeling like he would rather not be the babysitter in charge.

"Um, no," Henry sighs. "But Mom's been busy all day talking to Aunt Zelena about Hyde and my other Mom's still working."

Hook has hardly seen Emma all day, and in truth, it feels strange being in Regina's house, especially as the responsible adult. Hook heaves a sigh then gives Violet a reassuring grin. "Fine, I'll pretend I don't know she's grounded."

Violet breathes out in relief and smiles gratefully. Henry opens his mouth to speak, but Hook holds up his hand.

"In return," he says firmly, "I need something from you, a bit of assistance."

"Anything," Violet agrees.

Henry gives Hook an interested look. "What do you need help with?" An amused smile spreads onto his face. "The thermostat?"

Hook sighs wryly. "I'm not even going to look at the strange technology Regina owns."

"Then what?" Henry asks.

Hook considers how to phrase his question, and wonders yet again if his plan is ridiculous. "Your storybooks," Hook states. "I need to know if you've read anything about a particular person."

Henry sits down on his bed with a quizzical expression. "Sure, that should be easy. Who are you looking for?"

Hook smiles at the ceiling feeling foolish. "I, um, don't have a name for her. I was hoping I could describe her appearance and circumstances and that might prompt your memories."

Violet lifts two storybooks and hands one to Henry. She sits beside him to open the other. "What's she like?" she asks.

"A young mermaid," Hook answers. "Or… a girl who can transform into a mermaid..."

"The girl you and Grandpa met in the Underworld?" Henry questions.

"Aye, that's the one," Hook agrees.

"She didn't have unfinished business to keep her there," Henry states. "I didn't write anything down for her."

"She might be trapped though," Violet muses. She flicks through the illustrations before her. "What does she look like, when she doesn't have a tail?"

"A bit younger than you both, I think," Hook replies thoughtfully. "Long, pale, wavy hair like an opal."

"'Like an opal'?" Henry queries.

"Like a… very pale, whitish blond… Like Elsa's, almost, with these… pale colours through it. Pale pink, coral, blue, lilac..."

"Magical hair?" Henry asks.

"I don't think so," Hook muses. "Dyed, I think. Possibly very faded colours?"

"Did she have roots?" Violet asks.

Hook glances at her. "'Roots'?"

"In her hair," Violet expands. "If she was trapped there long enough for her hair to fade, she would have roots where her natural colour had grown in."

Hook shakes his head. "I didn't notice," he admits. "Her hair was naturally pale so it would have been hard to tell. Her eyebrows were pale. She was pale everywhere. Like she had been kept away from the sun."

Violet gets to the end of her book. "I don't see anyone like that," she sighs. "What about you, Henry?"

A knock at the door makes them look up.

"Come in?" Henry calls.

Emma walks in, her gaze dropping upon Violet. She smirks but makes no comment about it. "Regina stopped by at the station to say she was still plotting, so we're having dinner together tonight." She smiles at Violet. "Will you be joining us?"

Violet looks embarrassed. "I better not, my dad might notice that-"

"-You were here?" Emma finishes. "He came by asking after you earlier. I said you were probably with Henry, who was safe with Hook."

"Thanks for the heads up about the extra kid, Swan," Hook states with a roll of his eyes.

Emma flinches oddly in response.

Hook gives her a concerned look, but she smiles awkwardly at him in dismissal. "So," she says, "what have you guys been upto?"

The teens look at Hook for permission. He nods freely.

"Trying to find that girl from the Underworld in any of the storybooks," Henry explains.

"Did you?" Emma asks.

Violet shakes her head and glances at Henry.

"There's nothing," he sighs. "It's strange."

Emma gazes at the book in his hand with another strange expression. "Perhaps her story just hasn't been written yet," she suggests.

Hook puts his arm on her in concern at her strained expression. She frowns slightly but smiles at him. "Can we talk later?" she asks softly.

"We can talk now?" Hook suggests.

Emma gazes at the teens, her lips pressed together uncomfortably. "After dinner?" she suggests.

Henry heads to his bedroom door. "Do you think you know your way around my Mom's kitchen enough to cook in it?" he teases.

Emma laughs a little despite her tension and puts her hand on Henry's scalp. "Not a chance," she admits.

"Granny's it is," Hook declares. "I'm going to turn into a lasagne." He glances at Emma. "Would you still love me?"

Emma purses her lips. "If you turned into a lasagne. I don't know, that might be a hard limit."

Hook pretends to be appalled, and Emma tries to smile at his antics, but there's a sadness in her eyes that concerns him.

Despite his worry, Hook is relieved to be out of Regina's house, with the onus on his as the supposedly responsible adult if anything were to go wrong.

Emma is worryingly quiet on the walk, but Henry and Violet fill the air with chatter.

David is standing at the counter as the group enter the diner. "I figured Snow's been home with Neal all day and after today's shift I'm too tired to cook," he explains as Granny hands him a bag of takeaway cartoons.

"I'd have thought she'd have wanted out of the house," Hook comments.

David gives them a smile. "That would necessitate dressing or bathing. Neal's started teething."

"I guess I dodged that bullet with you," Emma tells Henry, ruffling his hair again. Her expression is off, and Hook notices how David recognises it.

"Grandpa?" Henry asks.

David looks at Henry, smiling despite his visible tiredness.

"Hades never got to use Zelena's time travel spell, did he?" Henry asks.

David looks surprised. "Not as far as I know," he replies with a questioning tone. "Why?"

"Just thinking," Henry explains. "We couldn't find any information on that girl you met in the Underworld."

"P-perhaps there would be more of this girl's s-story to be found in the Land of Untold Stories," Jekyll muses from a nearby table.

Hook and David note how Emma glances around quickly. She is clearly unsettled.

"Possibly," David says. "But I think we have a more pressing need to tackle Hyde first."

"V-very true," Jekyll agrees dully.

David gestures with his food. "I better take these to Snow before they get cold."

"Bye, mate," Hook replies, mentally taking note to question his friend later about Emma.

Ruby comes over as Violet and Henry slide into a booth, chatting merrily.

Hook leans closer to Emma as Granny moves away to bustle around in the background. "Is everything okay, love?"

"I don't know," Emma admits. She feels guilty for the worry on Killian's face. She sighs, "I'm probably blowing things out of proportion, ignore me."

"Tell me when you're ready, Swan," Hook responds calmly, brushing her chin affectionately with his namesake.

"Am I ever ready for anything?" Emma mutters, nudging him into the booth.

"Should we make a plan about Hyde?" Henry asks.

"Let's just eat just now, okay kid?" Emma requests.

The other give her analysing looks.

"I'm fine," Emma insists with a sigh. She tells Ruby, "I really need some coffee."

"You really need to share more," Hook mutters.

She doesn't smirk or hit him, causing Hook to look at her. Something is clearly wrong despite her protests to the contrary. He reaches over and puts his hand on hers comfortingly.

She looks up and gives him a smile, but her gaze is troubled.

They agree on the plan, and Emma gets up to visit the restroom. Smiling politely at the others, who look close to returning to bickering, Snow squeezes out and follows her daughter.

Emma almost jumps as she notices her mother behind her.

"I thought I was the one getting no sleep," Snow comments tartly.

"Maybe it's like sympathy pains," Emma mutters.

"You look like death," Snow states.

"Wow, thanks, Mom," Emma sighs. She shrugs uncomfortably. "Probably just the effects of the past few days. It's been hard."

"Harder than Hook seems to realise," Snow points out. "You haven't told him yet, have you?"

"I've been trying to," Emma sighs. "But how… How do you even tell someone you love… something like that?"

Snow bit her lip and pulled Emma further into the restroom, checking there was no one around to overhear.

"When I met David's mother," Snow began, "she was very sick. Dying. And I couldn't… I couldn't have children. Ruth managed to switch the little amount of enchanted lake water we had so that… although we couldn't save her life, I would no longer be cursed barren by King George."

"Obviously it worked," Emma surmises, feeling a little stunned.

"There must be something we can do," Snow insists. "Just… so you **have** that option. If you want it."

Emma was uncertain whether she did want the option; whether she would even be a good mother. However, losing the option she had taken for granted… it hurt.

And she was sure telling Killian would hurt too.

"But this doesn't mean you don't have to tell Hook," Snow warns. "You can't keep secrets from someone you love. Especially not something as big as this."

"I know," Emma sighs. "I will tell him. I just hope he'll forgive me."

"He loves you," Snow says in reassurance.

"Is that enough?" Emma asks.

"Probably," Snow says. "But you won't know if you push him away by not giving him the chance to show you."

Emma heaves a deep sigh. "Mom?"

"What, sweetheart?" Snow asks.

"There's something else," Emma admits.

Snow shivers as though something icy has reached her stomach. "What else?" she asks with foreboding.

"That little girl in the Underworld who didn't belong there," Emma says very softly. "What if..? What if my deal with the witches impacted on that girl's life? What if she's..?"


	12. Chapter 12

Seated by the Sea of Lost Souls, the young girl with pastel hair swings her legs and gazes out towards the horizon. Her arm is bandaged at her side, blood already seeping through the once iridescent fabric.

The wraiths watch her with interest.

Iridiana watches them back, wondering idly what they would do if she unfastened the makeshift bandage around her arm and threw it to them to perhaps fight over or consume. Or perhaps merely ignore.

She was infinitely more interesting after all: the girl with the beating heart alone in the Underworld.

For now.

Iridiana takes a deep breath then intones, "Rumplestiltskin, Rumplestiltskin, Rumplestiltskin."

At first nothing happens, but she waits, and waits some more. She was mostly confident that this would work, but the fine hairs on her arms begin to rise with foreboding. The wraiths watch silently. Perhaps he won't come.

But he does.

"Hello, dearie," Rumplestiltskin announces, circling her arrogantly. He's younger than she's used to, with darker, wavier hair, but it's him.

The girl's shoulders slump forwards with relief. "I'm glad you're here."

Rumplestiltskin looks around them at the Underworld in general and the crowding wraiths in particular. "Well yes, I imagine you are," he replies. He smirks. "Time for a change of scenery, is it?"

"I've got something to make a deal with," Iridiana says slowly.

Rumple raises his brows and approaches closer. He smells like old leather and bad decisions. "What would that be?"

"Information..." she replies. The word drifts a little in the air as Iridiana feels sticky blood drip between her fingers.

Rumplestiltskin laughs dismissively. "I know how to visit a library, dearie."

The girl tilts her chin warily. "Information you'll want," she retorts.

"Really?" Rumple purrs.

Flexing her fingers as the liquid pools between them, Iridiana swings her feet together as though they are still joined as a tail. The only escape of her own she has been capable of. The girl stares at them for a moment then nods and looks this version of Rumplestiltskin in the eyes bravely.

She needs him. He is her escape.

"You've been tricked," Iridiana announces.

Rumplestiltskin freezes for a moment then approaches uncomfortably closely. There's a threat in the nearness which the man Iridiana knows would never direct towards her.

"Explain," he growls.

The girl crosses her thin arms. He notes the vivid bleeding across her limb and the way she choses to ignore it. Iridiana declares, "You need to promise to help me first. I'll tell you and you help me; that's the deal."

"I could just make you tell me," Rumple whispers ominously in her ear.

The girl smirks. "You could, but you like me."

"I wouldn't go that far," Rumplestiltskin replies, making a face. Her certainty is intriguing. She knows something that he doesn't.

And that wicked mouth is familiar. Why is it familiar?

She leans back on her arms like she is actually capable of putting weight on them both. "Well I like you, and want to tell you what's wrong, but I'm waiting on you agreeing to my terms," the girl announces precociously.

Rumple sighs and waves his hands dismissively. "Fine, you have a deal. Tell me."

Iridiana leans up with a comfortable familiarity that sets his nerves on edge and whispers in Rumple's ear.

He stiffens. The information clearly infuriates him, but he pulls back and surveys her steadily. "How can I help you?"

The girl swallows and murmurs something to him. There's a heaviness to her voice like he ought understand, but he doesn't.

Rumple nods, and with a puff of smoke they find themselves in the Land of Untold Stories. "Cheerio, dearie," Rumplestiltskin announces.

"Wait," the girl cries.

He gives her an unimpressed look. "That was all you asked for, dearie."

"Oh, I have all I need now," Iridiana replies, tilting her head to indicate their surroundings. "But you might want to know that whilst the needle's too spent to make an antidote for Belle and… and your baby, the spinning wheel itself will work."

Rumple steps closer intimidatingly. "How do you know that?"

The girl sneers dismissively at the threat. "You think this is the first time you've helped me time travel?"

Rumple glowers at her. "Yet I don't remember that?"

"The next time hasn't happened yet in your time line,"Iridiana expands thoughtfully. "But by then your child is safe and well. It's okay."

Rumple exhales. "Anything else I should know?" he asks dryly.

"Well, here's where things get a little sketchy," the girl replies. "You've told me that in your timeline you meet a captain off the coast of here, on the little island to the east, and get passage back to Storybrooke to make the antidote. But I think that happened before I was born, or when I was very young, so I don't know much about that."

"...Captain Hook?" Rumplestiltskin grimaces.

The girl's gaze flickers but she shakes her head beneath the shaggy, pastel waves. "No. A girl. You said… You said that she had a memorable appearance and that… and that someone called Regina, who I think you know by now, called the captain 'Polly'."

"So I'm looking for a Captain Polly, who knows Regina, off of the east coast of this land, back in my timeline?" Rumplestiltskin queries.

"I… don't think her name's actually Polly," the girl says carefully. "I think Regina was… teasing, because the captain seemed a bit eccentric. Dressed with a lot of colour, like a parrot."

"Right, so I'm looking for a human parrot," Rumplestiltskin replies.

The girl nods and watches him disappear. Iridiana stares at the remaining smoke until it too leaves then she turns around and wonders how she is going to survive in this strange land. Utterly alone.

The throbbing, screaming ache in her arm has receded a bit. Iridiana raises it to her gaze, finally feeling a bit less weak and dizzy, and notices the bleeding has finally stopped.

Iridiana quickly unwinds the scrap of bloody material. Peeling it back from the ugly wound carefully, she feels a slight rush of warmth in her chest.

Maybe she's not so completely alone.

Rumple's forced the open edges of the wound back together. It'll probably scar, but it will iheal/i.

Now if only Iridiana could find someone to help with the rest of her.


End file.
